Cool the Engines

Monday morning and I am at home instead of at the office so I can recover from yesterday. I had a panel, a reading and inducted Trebor Healey into the S&S Hall of Fame. It all went well, I was able to grab lunch with Rob Byrnes, Jean and Gillian, too. By the time the reception was over I was worn out and exhausted, so grabbed a Lyft and headed home. Sparky was incredibly needy when I got home, and I just collapsed into my easy chair to watch some news and things before stumbling up to bed, where I slept insanely well. I had some lovely conversations, ran into and got to talk to some friends I’ve not seen in a long time (hey, Tim!) and over all, exhausted as I was at the end of the day, I think I played the weekend properly. I’m a bit physically and mentally tired this morning–Sparky let me sleep in–and so it’s going to be an easy day of rest around here today. Paul will get home from the hotel later on today, and things will go back to what passes as normal around here once he’s home. Huzzah! I am kind of looking forward to some normality, to be honest.

I have things to do at leisure today–laundry and dishes and picking up–and I am going to spend some time reading this morning once I finish this. I think I’ll read until the laundry is finished–three loads–and then commence to other things. I was also thinking about writing a lot last night when I got home; events like this do tend to remind me why I love writing and being a writer, and my brief appearances this weekend, and listening to authors talk about their craft (I’d never met or heard Christopher Castellani speak before, and he’s very smart) is always inspiring. S&S isn’t like any other literary conference/festival I’ve ever attended because the whole weekend is really about connecting with other writers and readers and inspiration. Douglas Sadownik is also an excellent speaker, by the way. I read Sacred Lips of the Bronx a million years ago and don’t remember it, but it may be worth a revisit.

I may try to watch that manosphere thing again, but I don’t know that I can stomach it. I mean, I have an entire essay series planned for my newsletter about masculinity, so I should watch it as research; I have no interest in the straight manosphere because it’s predicated on grift, illusions, and takes advantage of lost young men by telling them this is the proper “lifestyle” for a man to achieve. The young men aren’t all right, as the last election showed us, but the reason they are lost is because they hold on to old-fashioned notions and theories about what masculinity actually is. Anything I know about these people I learned without my consent–I’m still reeling from my supervisor bringing up “looksmaxxing” and me having to look into it because I didn’t know what she was talking about (ignorance truly is bliss sometimes)–and I wish I’d never heard of most, if not all, of them. I could never put this into fiction, I don’t think, because it’s all so idiotic and unbelievable you can’t make this shit up if you wanted to, and I definitely didn’t want to. Maybe I can find a nice true crime documentary instead.

Or I could watch The Mummy Returns, since I rewatched The Mummy the other day. These really are marvelous films, if extremely colonial in their point of view. Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz are marvelous together and should have made more films together; I remember the first time I watched The Mummy thinking, “oh, they are perfect for Peabody and Emerson!” and whenever I read another one of Elizabeth Peters’ marvelous Amelia Peabody series, I pictured them as the leads. I really wish a British production company would start filming those books, because Americans would ruin them. (Heated Rivalry would be a completely different show had it been an American production, and wouldn’t have blown up the way it did, either.)

Anyway, I am looking forward to a peaceful, easy day here in the Lost Apartment, and hope you are having a lovely day, too. Safe travels to everyone heading home from S&S today, and of course, I will be back here tomorrow morning bright and early in the dark. Until then, adieu!

My guess is immediately after this photo shoot the model ate a pizza.

Starshine

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well. I was very tired last night when I climbed the stairs and went to bed, Sparky in tow, and the little menace let me sleep in a bit this morning. I had planned to do errands this morning or in the early afternoon, but am not so sure now. Maybe after some more coffee? Maybe. Yesterday was nice and chill; I finished watching Traitors New Zealand, which was fun, but now I am out of Traitors to watch. Hmmm. I am planning on watching that manosphere documentary today at some point–I may have to take breaks from it because it might get on my nerves (if everyone’s an alpha, no one’s an alpha, and following one automatically makes you a beta, so I’ve never really been able to wrap my mind around the concept), and I should head over to Rouse’s for a few things today. I want to do some reading today, as well.

I did take a Lyft down to the opening reception for Saints & Sinners last night, but it was in the evening and so I was already getting tired. I also learned that it’s not good for me to stand for a while, either. My legs were exhausted, my Achilles tendons screaming, and my hips hurt by the time I climbed into my Lyft home. I think I was there about an hour? I did see Rob Byrnes, Jean and Gillian and Trebor Healey and Steven Reigns and Eric Andrews-Katz and Fay Jacobs and Carol Rosenfeld and numerous others. I also saw Dan Boyle for the first time in decades, and finally met the marvelous Jonathan Harper, which was delightful. But I was tired and there was a lot of people and I got very overwhelmed, which was also exhausting, so I was happy to come home and watch some news and rewatched Alysa Liu’s gold medal Olympic performance, which is one of my favorites of all time.

Remember the other day when I was talking about Barbara Tuchman’s book The March of Folly, in which she examined several instances of nations acting stupidly and not in their own best interest? She use the Trojan Horse, the Renaissance Popes sparking the Reformation, the loss of Britain’s thirteen American Atlantic seaboard colonies, and of course, Vietnam. As I was watching some of those “MAGA regret” videos last night, or reading comments on them, I was struck again by how the greatest American folly wasn’t, in fact, Vietnam, but MAGA. It doesn’t matter that there are more anti-MAGA folks than MAGA, but Vietnam was never a popular war here, either–and yet our government continued it. This current WAR with Iran is also incredibly unpopular and expensive–spending money the right claims we don’t have for health care and food for children or infrastructure or anything that would better the state of the country and the lives of its people…but our government will always open the checkbook for a war which gives us literally nothing and makes us less safe. Why do so many people vote against their best interests so consistently?

Choices, as Tatianna would say.

The funniest thing to me is so many right-wing “thinkers” subscribe to Ayn Rand’s philosophy of what she called “enlightened self-interest,” which sounds much better than “selfish narcissism.” The irony that these fools fail to see their goddess would think them dullards and fools has always amused me. That philosophy is a very flawed theory. I have always wanted to write about its high-minded sounding justification for being a malign tumor on humanity, but that would also require me to revisit Rand’s works, and I’d rather wash down ground glass with bleach, thank you. (A friend once said of Rand, “her writing was the least of her crimes,” which makes me laugh to this day because accurate.)

Rand hated religion, by the way; she considered it a crime against humanity, and you know–stopped clock. So, you cannot follow Rand’s philosophy while being a Christian. Sit with that a while, right-wingers. (She hated it more than Karl Marx did.)

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you tomorrow.

80’s male model Rick Edwards

All the Beautiful Worlds

Ah, you have to love waking up and checking your email and the first subject line you see is Reminder: Inspector Hole is now on Netflix. It always makes me laugh–as does the fact his first name is Harry–because I sometimes have the maturity level of a junior high student. I’ve always meant to get to Jo Nesbø’s highly acclaimed series, just never have. The Festivals will be over by Sunday night, and so normality might return to the Lost Apartment (I’m not counting on it) soon and we can start watching a new show, or the new season of a favorite. I’ll be done with The Traitors New Zealand (I’m not enjoying this season as much thus far, but it should start kicking into gear soon. I was bitterly disappointed they banished the hottest guy already, which threw a wrench in my social theory I was developing from watching. Then again, it could be the exception that proves the rule. Sorry, Fili, you were gone too soon) by the end of the weekend. I will be heading down to the Quarter later for the Saints and Sinners opening party, but will probably come home directly after. Everything I have to do is on Sunday, which will make for a long, draining day, and am very glad I wisely took Monday off to recover and run errands and get ready for the week. I have some work-at-home duties to get done and a training later this morning on-line, so I am also going to try to clean the apartment when my eyes get bleary and start to cross. I got up and fed Sparky on time before going back to bed for a couple of hours, so I feel very rested this morning. Sparky is also playful this morning, so he’s alternating between attacking me with claws and fangs or chasing a bottlecap. He really is adorable, if a bit of a pest sometimes.

I was tired when I left the office yesterday and came straight home from work. I plopped down into my chair with Lord Sparkster and caught up on the news, which was horrible as per usual with this regime. I obviously watched an episode of The Traitors because of course I did, have you been paying attention? I was going to start watching the new Paul Theroux documentary but after seeing the toxic white men all day on social media I just couldn’t face even watching these twerps getting mocked the way I am sure the documentary does (my favorite comment to these pricks on-line is “if everyone’s an alpha no one is”), but I’ll try it tomorrow or tonight when I get home from the party.

The world figure skating championships are also this weekend, with Ilia Malinin in first after the men’s short, with the other Americans in the Top Ten–and Amber Glenn and Isabeau Levito are third and fourth, in medal position. I was very happy to see Ilia’s short program on YouTube last night; he seems much freer and happier than he did in Italy at the Olympics.

All the homophobes are, of course, out in force since it was revealed that a future season of Bridgerton will actually feature a lesbian romance by changing the gender of the male lead to a woman. Oh, the straight white ladies—the same ones who creamed themselves—and still do—about Heated Rivalry, and members of the m/m community suddenly realizing, like gay men have been telling them for almost twenty years, that it’s a fetish for some of you and you need to listen to gay men and call out the homophobia which you never did.

For the record, you homophobic bitches, I read and consume lesbian art regularly because it’s good, not because it gets me off. If a gay man can read and enjoy lesbian art, a straight woman certainly can. Then again, if it’s okay for straight women to write vampires and space aliens why can’t they write gay men? (This has been said to me any number of times. Yes, we only exist in fiction, bitch.) I saw a lot of this misogynistic patriarchical thinking from a lot of hateful straight white women yesterday, and no, you’re never beating the allegations, ladies. Clean up your community and stop attacking gay men.

Someone also pointed out something interesting in response to one of those right-wingers who posted about how he has liberal friends and they all get along because they don’t talk about politics—they noted these posts only ever come from the right, never the left. How often do you see someone on the left post about how they’re still friends with their right-winger friends and family because they don’t talk politics? It’s never someone who isn’t MAGA, and the post inevitably was triggered by being cut off from friends and family members because you voted for a pedophile who’s destroying the world. “You make politics your personality!“ Well, I sure as fuck wouldn’t if I were MAGA, for one, and for two, it’s not politics, it’s morality. How many “I regret my vote” posts and videos have you seen from Harris voters? None? I do see a lot of pining and sadness from MAGA people who’ve been cut off, but they never seem to grasp what their vote and support actually showed decent human beings about who they actually are. I wouldn’t feel safe having my kids around people who support pedophilia, or just are okay with looking the other way.

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

The Temple of Poseidon, Attica, Greece